Revenge
by Caranath
Summary: There's a contract out on Joe. Can his family and friends keep him safe? Can he keep from going stir crazy? Can his new wife handle all the stress? Read and find out!
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: **_ Did ya miss me? I really wanted to wait until this was at least half done before posting, so that I could post a new chapter more often than once a week, but that isn't happening. partly because there have not been any good new stories posted lately that I wanted to read so I wanted to give you all an early present. and partly because I know if I do not start posting and thus force myself to write to keep up, I will never finish. There will be a lot of graphic language throughout. you have been warned._

**Revenge**

Officer Greg Herndon of the Bayport Police department paced nervously outside the cruise terminal in Bayonne NJ. Not for the first time, he wished that the Immigration and Customs officials had allowed him to enter and watch for his target inside. The rain and bitterly cold wind was only part of the reason. The real reason was that he would not relax until he had eyes on Joe and Halloran Hardy in person. Even then he would not allow himself the luxury of breathing easy until they had been safely delivered to the secure location where Laura Hardy had already been moved to.

After about 30 minutes of misery, the TSA official standing by the exit from the luggage pickup area took pity on the young police officer and invited him to stand inside. "You shoulda said you needed to make an arrest, Son." the grizzled gentleman joked. "You woulda gotten personally escorted to the Customs area then."

"I thought about it. It's protective custody actually. But I didn't want to ruin the last minutes of their honeymoon." Herndon replied. He sent the next few minutes in idle chitchat, keeping a close eye on every face as it passed into the warehouse like holding area. As soon as the TSA agent learned that the Hardys had been in a suite, he brought Greg over to the area where suite luggage had been deposited. The area was sectioned off, with a separate entry although everyone did leave into the parking lot the same way.

It wasn't too long after that that Greg saw Joe's distinctive blond curls peeking out over the top of the crowd. If anything, they were lighter than ever, testimony that unlike home, their destination had not been plagued by dismal weather. He nodded his thanks to the TSA officer and made his way purposefully through the throng, meeting the newlyweds as they snagged their luggage. "Want a lift?" he asked too casually.

Joe started, grinning as he turned around, only to immediately grow alarmed as he saw who it was. "Where's Frank?!" he exclaimed, panic clouding his voice. "What's happened?!" he continued without taking a breath. Halloran instinctively moved closer, sensing Joe's dread. Greg held up his hands in a 'calm down' gesture but his tone of voice did not instill any confidence whatsoever.

"Frank's fine. Everyone is fine." Greg said. "I just thought I'd do him a favor and pick you up myself."

"In uniform?!" Joe's voice positively dripped with sarcasm. He knew something was up. He pulled his petite wife closer to his side. "Spit it out, Dude."

Greg sighed. He knew it was too much to hope that Joe would not see right through the charade. "Not here. In the car." He reached over and took Halloran's cary on from her shoulder and adroitly snagged the garment bag from the pile at Joe's feet and headed out, forcing the newlyweds to scramble after him.

Joe stopped short at the sight of their ride. It was Greg's police cruiser, trunk already unlocked and opened by the time they had caught up. Greg refused to say another word beyond telling Joe to put the rest of the bags in the trunk. He opened the passenger door and offered Hall a hand as she slid into the seat but not before giving Greg a very sharp look. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, but based on the narrowing of her eyes he knew she wasn't fooled for a second. Joe was no more easily reassured either. He refused to duck into the seat and instead placed his hand on the top of the door, forcing Greg to look him the eye. "What the hell is going on, Herndon?!" he growled.

"Please, Joe, just get in the car and I swear I will explain on the way." Greg pleaded. Joe just shook his head and whipped out his cell phone. He quickly switched out of airplane mode and swiftly scrolled through his contacts until he found his brother. With a pointed look at his friend, Joe dialed Frank.

"_Just get in the car, Joe._" Frank's voice came out over the speaker, slightly tinged with equal parts amusement and exasperation. He had been waiting for this call for the last 45 minutes. "_Everyone is fine for now but you really need to get back here ASAP._"

"Dammit Frank what's going on?!" Joe exploded, fear warring with anger and winning for the moment.

"_Greg will explain the basics and I will fill you in on the details when you get to the safe house._" it was the wrong thing to say and as soon as the words left his mouth Frank cringed at the inevitable explosion.

"_**SAFE HOUSE?!**_" Joe screeched into the phone causing Greg to step back, Frank to wince and Halloran to gasp in fear, a cold shiver running down her spine.

"_Please, Joe. Just let Greg drive, okay?!_" the elder brother pleaded. "_Mom can't wait to see all the pictures you guys took._" As soon as the words left his mouth, Frank knew it was once again the wrong thing to say. If Laura was going to be there, it meant something very big was going on.

Instead of shouting, though, Joe stood up straighter and dropped his voice into a low growl. He glared daggers at Greg as he bit each word off. "Dammit Frank what the hell is going on?!"

Frank sighed deeply. "_There's been a contract put out on you._" He refused to say anything more, hoping that it would be enough to get his brother to cooperate. He felt Joe's shocked reaction, silent though it was. "_Please, Little Brother, just get in the car and let Greg get you two to safety._"

It was enough to get him to stop fighting the issue. Joe hung up without another word and slipped into the police cruiser and immediately pulled his wife close, kissing the top of her head as he closed his eyes. It was unthinkable. Contracts were cliché. Drug dealers and gangs used them to get rid of competition, but the Agency hadn't been remotely connected to either in years. Maybe his last FBI job? Joe mentally dismissed that. His cover was intact, he was sure of it, although he made a mental note to call his handler as soon as he could access a secure phone line. He murmured soft reassurances into Halloran's ebony tresses but was otherwise silent the entire ride.

Greg tried to diffuse the tenseness by asking questions about the honeymoon and soon Halloran was excitedly recounting all their adventures. Joe was uncharacteristically silent the entire time, and although Hall sent worried glances his way, as soon as he saw her do that he erased his troubled look and gave her a soft smile. The only time he spoke was about an hour later when he asked where they were headed.

"New place. I haven't even seen it yet. Figure maybe another 45 minutes or so before we get there." The address was in his head, having been instructed to not use GPS. He had spent a long hour memorizing the route he was given at the precinct earlier that morning. He sent a silent prayer of thanks to his grandfather, who had taught him as a young boy how to read maps and commit them to memory quickly. When Halloran asked what that meant, Joe began to explain, trying to make light of it.

"We get to extend our honeymoon a little longer is all, Dear." he enthused a little too brightly. She gave him a look that told him she wasn't buying a word of it. His smile faded and his deep sapphire blue eyes became serious. "It'll be okay, I promise." He stared at Greg via the rear view mirror, silently begging him to agree. He took the hint.

"Really, It's no bid deal, Halloran. Just a little extra caution is all. It will be only for a day or so."

"But _**why**_ do we need to go there?!" she demanded. "I have to do laundry, and I need to get ready to go back to work tomorrow!"

"I am pretty sure there's a washer and dryer at the safe house, Dear." Joe teased. "Besides do you _really_ wanna go back to the drudgery of work?" He leered at her suggestively.

"**Some** of us have reputations to maintain and deadlines to meet." she sniffed. "And I bet Phil is ready for a break, considering he has a newborn at home." She gave her husband a reproving glance. "I did promise him 2 weeks off when I got back."

"Babe, I'd be a lot happier if you were safely tucked away. Phil will understand. We'll make it up to both of 'em." Joe pleaded earnestly.

"But _**why**_ do we need to go there?!" she asked again, this time with more panic in her voice.

Joe recalled the words of wisdom his father had passed on the night of his bachelor party at the cabin. Once again he looked into the rearview mirror and silently asked Greg for his opinion. Greg refused to take sides and just resolutely paid attention to the road. Joe rolled his eyes, causing Greg to grin and stick his tongue out in return. He then turned to his wife and adjusted his arm so that the cast, now vey dingy and covered with autographs from half the cruise staff, was behind her shoulders. "Because I want you safe and out of the line of fire."

"You said that already. Not good enough, StudMuffin." she glared back at him stubbornly.

"Someone has put a contract out on me. Which means by extension you are in danger too." Joe finally said the words out loud, making it real. While he was no stranger to being the target of nefarious people, it was never when he was married and certainly not officially. Usually it was just someone swearing revenge, not someone willing to go through the trouble of hiring a professional.

Halloran blanched at the words. "A _contract_?!" she asked incredulously. "As in a real Old School Mafia type contract?!" At her breathless statement, Greg winced, and unfortunately Joe caught it.

"Spit it out, Greg." he growled.

Greg sighed. "Vincente." one word, but it was enough for Joe's hair to stand on end. "It's worse than you think." the police officer reluctantly continued.

"Pretty sure it can't get much worse than that, Pal." Joe wryly commented even as he forced down the wave of fear that threatened to bring his breakfast back up.

"It does. Trust me." Herndon was reluctant to say anything more in front of Halloran. She, however noticed right away that he was holding something back and forcefully declared she was perfectly capable of handling anything , thankyewverymuch. After a questioning eyebrow in Joe's direction, Greg sighed again when he got the nod of approval.

"Are you sure?" he asked, hoping the question would cause Joe to backtrack.

"Yes I am sure." was all Joe said with little of his trademark sarcasm.

"Mazzola."

Joe gasped and true fear began gripping his gut. "They're dead." He managed to speak without his voice squeaking or trembling.

"The two younger ones are. Not Big Brother. The one who taught them everything they knew." Greg hated to tell him, especially with Halloran sitting right there.

"Who's Mazzola?" she asked, confused and alarmed by Joe's reaction.

He pulled her closer and she could feel his trembling. "My back." He whispered into her hair, and this time his voice did crack. While rare, he still had nightmares and once or twice she had been witness to them. And one night months earlier he told her in sanitized terms exactly what had happened to him. Any rash thoughts he may have had about leaving Halloran at the safe house and going after the people behind the contract promptly fled and he was rapidly becoming a scared little six year old afraid of the monsters under the bed again. This time he was going to hide, and he didn't care what people said about it.

Not just because he was now a married man, either, although he tried to justify it that way. In all honestly, Joe Hardy was terrified. Afraid as he had never been afraid before or probably ever would be in future. If anything or anyone could make him doubt himself, it was this. Vincente, cold, calculating and scary as hell in his pinstriped suit and white carnation. The old man had quite calmly told him that his life was forfeit and then handed him over to a pair of sadistic bastards. And according to Greg, the older brother was worse.

"Why now, Greg? Why is the Old Man suddenly after my blood?" he asked after composing himself enough to speak clearly.

"The Old Man is dead, Joe. It's the son that wants you. Mario Junior." Greg gently explained. "Think Sonny Corleone. Or Phil Leotardo. Vicious SOB who really doesn't like you." For the next ten minutes he narrated Joe's close calls in the days prior to his wedding, causing both newlyweds to become increasingly agitated. He began by explaining that Aldo Mazzola, eldest brother, returned from exile to find his siblings had been killed and asked Mario Senior for permission to seek retribution. Having been granted permission, Mazzola tried to kill Joe by sabotaging the Impala. When that failed, he instead sought to finish the job by sending him over a cliff on the way to his wedding. "That flat tire? Was no accident." He continued by explaining that meanwhile, the son had decided to finish the job by taking out the rest of the Hardy men. Only Joanna's arriving at the Agency to do paperwork and discovering the bomb had averted that disaster. When the Patriarch discovered all this, he flatly the whole thing off. "Junior shot the Old man in cold blood, then enlisted Mazzola's help. They planned on hitting you as soon as you got back."

"So what tipped you off?" Joe asked.

"We had help." Greg deftly dodged a semi with its' flashers on going up the steep hill before continuing his narrative. "Carl Vincent. Born Giancarlo Vincente. Youngest son and _not_ happy with his brother. He's legit, too. Been feeding us as much info as he can. Of course, not being made, he doesn't have a lot. But he's been able to get us enough to know this ain't just words." he glanced back at the now obviously distraught couple. "Your father called in more than one favor, and Frank leaned on the FBI, reminding them of all your past assistance, in order to get the ball rolling." he reassured them.

"First time we've ever had advance notice somebody is out to get me." Joe tried to joke although his laugh was strangled.

"I always knew you were popular, Studmuffin. I just never knew how much so!" Halloran tried, but mostly failed, to make a joke out of the situation. Her voice was thick with tears. Joe shushed her, pulling her practically into his lap to hold her close. She allowed herself a moment of terror, clinging to him and not caring about a very embarrassed Greg in the front seat.

The rest of the drive was mostly silent, Greg opting to pay studious attention to the road, while Joe held his wife close. The only sounds were Halloran's sniffles as she vainly tried to maintain her composure. It was one thing to tell yourself you can handle anything, and quite another entirely to be faced with the reality. She wasn't sure she was up to the challenge.

Joe's mind was racing. He had exactly zero past history with the son, so honestly was flabbergasted as to why he was the target. He was getting damn sick and tired of always being the one to get shot, or kidnapped or put in mortal peril. (_I am too old for this shit_!) he angrily thought to himself as he tightened his embrace around Halloran. And now he had the added responsibility of being a married man. Ten years ago he would have been in a righteous snit and demanded to not only _not_ be locked up for his own good, but to be an active participant in the hunt for the bad guys. Today he was older, wiser, and far more concerned about protecting his family. And that meant being cautious, patient and solicitous of their views. (_How the hell did Dad do this for 30 years? And how the hell did Mom survive it_?!)

Neither of them noticed when Greg bypassed the usual exit towards Bayport and continued on a few more miles before leaving the highway. Joe was still murmuring quiet promises that everything was going to be fine(despite not believing his own words) and Hall was desperately pretending to agree( despite not believing a word of it) when the police cruiser turned off the main road onto a long driveway. It wasn't paved, although the gravel was well packed and driving was smooth. Around a short curve and the land opened up, offering no cover whatsoever beyond a couple of trees situated far enough from the main house that they would present no safe haven for anyone trying to sneak up. Greg pulled up to the front and gave two short beeps of the horn. By the time he got out of the driver's seat and opened the door for Halloran, Frank was already outside and headed down the stairs.

"Welcome back!" he said, his grim tone of voice belying the smile he wore, mostly for Halloran's benefit. He went straight to the trunk and helped Greg pull out the luggage and indicated the new arrivals should precede him into the house. Once inside, Laura greeted them both with a far more sincere smile and wasted no time giving each a fierce hug and a kiss on the cheek. She also immediately took over and insisted that everyone have lunch first before getting down to business. Longstanding Family rules meant that no business would be discussed while food was on the table. Lunch was a huge pot of split pea and ham soup with crusty bread dripping with butter. Obviously Laura was bored at the safe house as not only was there the soup, but Joe glimpsed at least 3 pies on the kitchen island. Actually, scratch that. Not bored, worried. He thought back over the years to the time when his father was missing or either he or his brother were in some sort of trouble. Between them Laura and Gertrude could stock a bakery at times like that. He had a sneaking suspicion that Halloran would be the same way. Oh well. What he didn't eat he could give to the Youth Center.

Just as lunch was finishing up, Fenton arrived along with Paul Goddard, Greg's partner. Halloran got a quick peck on the cheek and Joe got a slap on the back before he sat down and appreciatively inhaled the aroma of piping hot soup. Goddard also accepted a bowl with thanks and wasted no time tearing into a hunk of bread and dipping it. Both men looked tired and rumpled. As they finished, Joe and Halloran fought over who was going to do dishes. Laura insisted that Joe help her and instructed Halloran to go upstairs and unpack. "The room at the far left of the hallway is yours, Dear. Just dump all the dirty clothes in the hamper. I'll show you where the laundry room is later. Why don't you take a little nap while you are up there?"

She immediately protested. "I am far too wired to even _think_ about napping!" she cried heatedly. Joe stepped in before things got out of hand.

"Mom, whatever we discuss I want her there. It involves her now." Joe spoke decisively. He knew that his mother had never been all that involved nor known the true danger any of the men in her life had been in at times, but he was not going to shut Halloran out. He was going to let her be as informed and involved as she wanted. And if his mother disapproved, that was too bad. He went even further and told her to go find something to do and he and his wife would do the dishes together. He deftly swiped the towel she had flung over a shoulder and gently but firmly turned her towards the doorway. Laura was a bit miffed but when Fenton asked her to join him upstairs she took off with a little sniff.

Joe handed Halloran the towel and began running hot water into the sink, adding a steady stream of dish soap he had found in the same spot as they kept theirs at home, underneath the sink. He was silent as he scrubbed and rinsed, lost on his own thoughts. It wasn't until he realized that the dish rack was full that Halloran had not been keeping up with the drying. He turned to her and his hart lurched as he realized she was silently crying. He turned off the water and gently pulled her into his embrace, not caring that his hands were dripping wet. He knew it would do no good to tell her everything was fine and that there was nothing to worry about. He wasn't a good enough liar to convince himself, let alone her.

"How bad is it?" she whispered through her tears into his chest.

He chucked a finger under her chin and softly placed the lightest of kisses on her lips. "I honestly don't know." he whispered truthfully. At her look of doubt, he reiterated. "Honey, I really have no clue," he swore earnestly. "I know less than nothing about either of them. I only dealt with the Father and the two bastards that strung me up like a pinata. Didn't even know there was a son, let alone two and the thought of there being another Mazolla who is apparently worse the the other 2 put together scares the shit out of me." His brutal honesty with none of his trademark flippant attitude finally convinced her. "I meant what I said earlier, if you want to be a part of the strategy session, you will be right by my side the whole time. I promise to not do a thing without you knowing and giving your okay. We're a team now." Joe assured her with a soft smile.

Halloran regained her composure and turned to the task of drying the dishes. Since neither of them had a clue where anything went, she stacked everything on the island as it was dried and once everything was done they randomly opened drawers and cabinets until they found places for everything. Frank came in at one point and asked if they were about ready to discuss things. As soon as Joe told him they'd be done in a few minutes, he nodded and left.

As they were putting the last of the dishes away and generally wiping everything down, Joe asked his wife again if she was up to it. "I made a promise to myself a long time ago to stop being afraid and hiding from things. I am not my mother." she said, trying to convince herself that was true. "And besides you said it, we are a team. I will not leave you to face this alone." she was resolute if still unsure. Joe gave her a strong hug that lasted both too long and not long enough before reluctantly disengaging. With another smile he led her out into the hallway. "Once more into the breach, dear friends," he quipped, reminding them both of the first time they met. They walked into the dining room, where the large table that easily sat 12 was covered in paper, files and surrounded by the rest of the men. They looked up at the arrival of the newlyweds and Greg stood, offering his chair to Halloran. Frank looked intently at his brother and was a little mollified that he seemed to be very serious about the whole thing for a change. Joe slipped into the chair between his father and his wife and leaned forward to grab one of the scattered pieces of paper.

"So exactly how much shit is hitting the fan?" he asked to no one in particular. The soft murmurings between the others stopped and they all looked anywhere but at Joe. "That bad, huh?" he quipped but with a growing sense of dread.

"Son, we are doing everything in our power to keep you safe." Fenton started only to be waved off.

"Dad, the mere fact that you are here, actively involved and _not _asleep on the couch enjoying retirement is enough to convince me it's bad. Mom being tucked away all nice and hidden just makes it that much more serious. Just come out with it. How fucked am I?"

**A/n: **_ I can't guarantee a lot of mushy post honeymon bliss, nor have I quite yet decided just how badly I am going be beat up on the Blond One. All I will promise is there will be prolific Joe Whumping. literally and figuratively. Also do not expect Laura and Halloran to see eye to eye on a lot of things. generation gap and all that. I will post about once a week. I hope..._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: **_It's time for another update! which almost did not happen as I was without power yesterday morning for a bit.. the bit that totally threw my timetable/schedule out the window. but the guy said two hours and in one hour and fifty eight minutes I had power back. So I was able to mostly make up for lost time. However, the rest of this week is totally shot. I make no promises about an update next week at all. If I get at least 2 chapters finished by Christmas, I will post. if not, coal for everyone! _

**Chapter Two**

The silence hung heavy and foreboding. No one wanted to be the one to come out and say anything. Some out of a distorted sense of chivalry with Halloran in the room. Others out of a desire to spare them any grief. Meanwhile, Joe was getting frustrated, Halloran more and more frightened and tension was rising exponentially. Having reached the end of his limited patience fairly quickly, Joe opened his mouth to bark a sharp retort when the sound of the doorbell caused everyone to jump and those carrying weapons to pull them out and go immediately on high alert. Joe, his own senses in overdrive, immediately pushed Halloran down under the table as he hovered protectively over her.

"I'll check it out." Greg Herndon grimly headed to the front door, his partner close behind him. Frank and Fenton stayed put, their own guns still at the ready as they took a blocking stance between the targets and the entryway. The silence stretched out, causing everyone to relax a fraction. No shots fired, shouting or other signs of alarm. Moments later, Greg and Paul returned but they were not alone.

"_Andy_?!" exclaimed Joe in disbelief. "Just what in holy hell is going on?!" he continued as he helped Hall up from under the table.

"Nice to see you too, Hardy." FBI Special Agent Andy Reeves smirked as he accepted the offer of Fenton's chair and sat down, placing the briefcase he brought with him on the table and opening it. He pulled out several folders and began sliding them down the table. "The FBI is taking a personal interest, gentlemen, and not just because Joe is so cute." The Agent winked at Halloran as he spoke. Ever since they had first met during Danny Frisk's kidnapping a few years ago, the Federal Agent had worked with the blond Hardy several times and was always grateful for the assistance given by a 'civilian', unlike many government officials. It was Joe's inspired hunch that led to the eventual capture of the man behind not only Danny's kidnapping, but almost a hundred others over the past decade. That capture had turned into the biggest government takedown in history and involved everything from Industrial Espionage to Terrorism.

Reeves accepted the offer of a cup of coffee and got down to business. "The FBI wants Vincente. Ever since he took over the family Biz, violent crimes have increased exponentially. It's been less than 2 weeks and already Junior is making huge changes. Changes the Federal government is not happy with. For some odd reason, my bosses are impressed with Blondie Bear over here and as soon as they found out he was a target, they decided to use that to their advantage." Andy was a strange combination of officious and affable. He hadn't been happy at finding out Joe was basically going to be used as bait, and made it perfectly clear that he was going to not only be involved, he was going the head up the Federal side. He spoke again before anyone could protest. "Yes I know, I wasn't exactly thrilled either We aren't the Network." Most government agencies had at least a little bit of rivalry going on, and the FBI/Network was no exception. It was common opinion that the Network played fast and loose with everything from the law to basic morals and it often resulted in clashes within Joint Operations. Andy Reeves was well aware of the Hardy's past with the Network and their disdain for many of its practices. "The intent, in order, is to keep Loverboy here in one piece, take down Junior and hopefully create enough of a power vacuum that the entire Vincente Organization crumbles. To that end we have formally recruited the youngest son as an informant. He'll be joining us later. My Partner will be along with him in a bit." Joe groaned at that announcement. While he liked Andy and worked well with the man, his partner was another story entirely. Andy just grinned at him before continuing.

"Any questions?" he asked to the room in general.

"Yeah. How fucked am I?" Joe asked again. "Nobody else seems to know or be willing to spell it out."

Andy leaned back, his smile fading and his eyes took a faraway look as he thought about how to answer. "As bad as it gets, I would say." he finally replied honestly. "What Junior lacks in smarts and cunning he makes up for in viciousness. And Mazzola is worse because he _does _ have the cunning if not the smarts. Plus he is beyond loyal to Junior. He also raised his kid brothers so he wants his own revenge."

"Great." Joe muttered sarcastically as he grabbed Halloran's hand under the table and squeezed in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. He turned to her and continued. "You are carrying from this moment on. No arguments. I want you able to protect yourself." She nodded, unwilling to press the issue. Joe then turned to the table and stared at Greg. "Make it happen." Greg nodded. Turning back to Reeves, he asked "So what's the Plan, Stan?"

Andy grew serious once again as he passed a folder over to Joe. "The top picture is Junior, the older guy is Aldo Mazzola. Nasty piece of work, learned his trade in Gulags all over. The picana is his favorite toy." Joe could not hide the shudder that ran through his body at hearing that, causing his wife, father and brother to all frown in worry more than they already were. "He's the one we really have to worry about. Junior has spent his life capitalizing on the Family name but really doesn't have the brains nor the patience to play the game. He's brutish, violent and a bully. He may give the orders but he doesn't have a clue what he's doing. There were rumors on the wind that Vincente Senior was going to cut Junior out totally. Probably by having him whacked." Blood only went so far in _La Cosa Nostra_. "He was also the only one who could control Mazzola. With him gone, the potential for widespread carnage is astronomical. And it's starting with you, Pal." he looked at Joe solemnly.

"Why me?!" he exclaimed. "Why is always me who gets targeted by the whackos?!" Joe threw his hands up in exasperation. This was no longer funny and he could not muster up enough sarcasm to pretend otherwise.

"Junior's best friends were the two younger Mazzolas. He blames you for their death." Andy shrugged his shoulders in a 'what can you do' gesture. Joe snorted derisively and sat back, arms crossed petulantly. "And well, you don't have the monopoly on Brotherly Love." he looked meaningfully between Joe and Frank. " This is far more personal than professional, which makes it twice as dicey. That's what my bosses are wanting to capitalize on. There are a few low level plants who are standing by to pass along anything as well as start chipping away from within."

"I don't like it. I don't like using Joe as bait." Fenton spoke with fervor.

"Neither do I, Mr Hardy, but I have my orders and it may be the only chance we have to permanently bring down the Vincente Organization." Andy was apologetic but determined.

"So what cunning plan has the the FBI whipped up to save my bacon?" Joe asked sardonically.

"Actually we were hoping you'd figure something out." Andy replied easily. "Maybe when Carl gets here we can brainstorm."

"My tax dollars at work." Joe commented wryly.

"I suggest we take a break until the rest of the party gets here then, people." Fenton spoke up then with a pointed look at both Reeves and Herndon. "I for one would like to hear about the honeymoon."

"Sorry Dad, I don't kiss and tell." Joe smirked and then winced as Halloran slugged him on the arm. "Ow! What was that for?!" he pouted. She just glared at him before standing up, which led to the rest of them doing so as well.

They all traipsed out to the living room, and before they had all finished sitting down, Laura brought out a tray full of cups and saucers and a carafe of coffee. She asked Halloran to help her get the rest, and before long the two women returned with another tray full of cookies and brownies as well as two more carafes of coffee. Whoever furnished the safe house obviously knew what they were doing, having multiple ways to serve caffeine.

"Dinner is self serve, gentlemen." Laura announced. There is potato salad in the fridge and what's left of the ham has been carved into sandwich size slices. "Eat when you are hungry." from past experience, though, she knew that once they got going, all her boys, Joe included, would completely forget to eat. "I am going upstairs to read." she gave a pointed look to Halloran, who returned it cooly as she sat down on the chair next to her husband. Laura's lips pursed together in a small display of disapproval but only Joe caught it. With a nearly inaudible sniff, Laura turned and went upstairs.

"What's that about?" Joe whispered for Halloran's ears only.

"Nothing." she replied dismissively. Joe gave her a look that silently said 'yeah, riiiight' but said nothing further. The next couple of hours, they regaled their listeners with tales of their exploits in Bermuda. Joe grabbed the camera and passed it over to Frank, who within minutes had it hooked up to the TV and they had a narrated slideshow. While he was upstairs grabbing it out of the carry on, he asked his mother if she wanted to join them, but she just said she was going to rest quietly. Joe gave her a funny look, normally Laura was the first person to pore over pictures.

For a while, everyone was able to forget the danger looming like a black cloud overhead. Joe was a masterful story teller and he kept everyone enthralled with descriptions of the crystal blue water and pink sands of Bermuda. Halloran made sure everyone knew about Joe's reaction to coming face to face with a shark while snorkeling and Joe retaliated by casually mentioning her 'wardrobe malfunction' at the pool one afternoon. He neglected to mention that he was the one that caused it by failing to retie the bikini top, though...

Eventually though, the yawns made it clear that everyone was exhausted. Andy had received a phone call earlier from his partner stating that the extraction of Carl had a little snag and he would try to sneak away in the morning. So by general consensus everyone decided to get some shut eye. Fenton told Joe to go to bed and that everyone else would stand watch tonight but he was on the schedule tomorrow and beyond. Joe was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth so he was fine with that. He grabbed Halloran by the hand and led her upstairs. As they got undressed, he broached the subject again. "Hon, what was that, really, between you and Mom earlier?"

Halloran tried to evade answering, but Joe was having none of that. "Spit it out, Rapunzel," he said sternly. Sighing heavily, Hall finished putting her nightgown on and sat on the edge of the bed.

"We had a difference of opinion, that's all." she was unwilling to say more but Joe coaxed it out of her. "Laura wanted me to let the 'professionals' handle everything and expected me to just stay out of the way. Tried telling me it was counterproductive to know everything and that I would only worry myself into a breakdown." her voice was bitter.

"C'mere." he sat down next to her and pulled her closer. "You know that I will back you 100% in whatever you decide you can handle. Just because it was what worked for mom does not mean it will work for you. And I'll be honest, babe, I am scared to death here, and you are the only one I trust enough to admit that to. I don't want dad or even Frank to know how freaked out I am." It took a lot for Joe to say that out loud. He had always hated admitting any sort of weakness and usually hid his fear behind sarcasm and witty comments. Halloran understood this and resolved even more to be there for him.

"The one thing I hated most about being an Army Brat was the whole 'need to know' crap. And mother was a master of not telling us squat. It was a full week before Mark and I found out that dad had been killed, and it was Gramps who told us. Our so called mother couldn't even be bothered to be honest with us. Instead she wallowed in her self pity and grief and we were even more frightened because nobody had the decency to try and explain anything. We were old enough to know the truth." As it often did when speaking of her mother, Halloran's voice grew bitter. "Contrary to popular opinion, ignorance is not bliss."

Joe gently kissed the top of her head before going into the bathroom and getting ready for bed. He spent a long time just staring into the mirror at haunted eyes. It took a great effort of will to not grab a hand held one to try and get a glimpse of his back. It seemed to him that all his scars, the ones that he not so long ago assured his brother never bothered him any longer, were now throbbing in pain. Intellectually he knew it was all in his head. Didn't stop him from wincing every time he moved his shoulders or feeling a tightness across his back. He spent the night tossing and turning, waking up twice in a cold sweat. Halloran was there each time to softly murmur reassurances in his ear but even so the next morning they both had circles under their eyes.

Each of them tried to put on a brave face and neither of them believed the other. Joe did manage to talk her into showering together and they used that time to savor each other's embrace. If they each spent a little extra time carefully applying make up or shaving, it went unnoticed by anyone as they came down the stairs holding hands and making their way into the kitchen to grab coffee and begin facing the day.

**A/n:** _You know me, I try and keep my characters realistic, if a bit paragon-ish. hence the tenseness between Mother in law and Daughter in law. not to mention Joe's emotional roller coaster.. Happy Holidays to everyone! _


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n: **_Since I figured no one will have time tomorrow or Wednesday to read, I present you Chapter 3 a little early. kick back after the kiddos are in bed and the presents get wrapped, grab a beverage of your choice and take a five minute break. you probably need one. _

**Chapter Three**

They were not the first ones downstairs. Frank and Fenton sat at the kitchen island nursing cups of coffee. Neither of them looked like that had slept much or well either. Halloran set to making breakfast and told Joe to make another pot of coffee, which he did in his usual manner with the cinnamon and nutmeg.

The rest of the company began drifting down one at a time with Laura bringing up the rear but immediately offering to help with breakfast. Joe gave Halloran a look as if to say ' let it go'. Joe knew from past experience that Hall could nurse a grudge like nobody else. . Despite a slight narrowing of eyes, she did so and suggested Laura could start frying up the meat. Soon the enticing aroma of sizzling bacon filled the air. As more coffee was consumed, conversations began consisting of more than just grunts and one syllable replies..

Halloran finished prepping baked french toast and shoved the pan into the oven to cook. Then the two ladies went onto the dining room to set the table. It wasn't too long before the sounds of a heavily rattled plate or glass set down a little forcefully drifted back into the men's hearing. Fenton asked "What is that all about?" as he stood to go investigate but stopped as Joe placed a hand on his arm and shook his head.

"Dad, let it go. They need to work it out themselves." Joe suggested but refused to elaborate. Fenton merely raised an eyebrow but sat back down. When it came time to serve, Joe leaped out and took the platter away from his mother in an attempt to not show favoritism. He wasn't going to get in the middle of the spat but neither was he going to take sides.

They were in the middle of breakfast when the doorbell rang. "For a safe house this place sure does get a lot of traffic!" Joe joked.

"It's Pat with Carl you dope." Andy smirked, causing Joe to groan in mock despair. Andy got up and answered the door with Frank trailing along behind, hand on his gun.

'Pat' was a tiny, spare, mousy woman with a perpetual frown below decidedly outdated winged glasses. Her dark hair was pulled back into a very severe bun, her grey suit looked like it belonged on a Librarian, not a Special Agent and Joe was convinced she had never smiled once in her life, not even as a kid. She sniffed primly as she peered over her glasses disapprovingly at Joe. He just looked cooly back at her, crossing his arms in unvoiced challenge.

Behind her, somewhat timidly, stood Carl Vincent. Joe looked him over appraisingly, noting that he had no resemblance to his father and mentally breathed a sigh of relief at that discovery. It was childish, he knew, but it helped that he was not faced with a younger version of the man who had ordered his torture and death so calmly. He decided to be nice. Walking over, pointedly ignoring Pat, he stuck his hand out. "So you're the one I get to thank for the advance warning."

Carl hesitated before extending his own hand. "I'd be lying if I said I was doing it for you." he responded a bit defensively. Joe just laughed and relaxed a little, opting to take the kid at his word and appreciating the honesty.

"Breakfast?" he asked. "Plenty of coffee too." and he led the way back into the dining room. Andy introduced Pat to everyone, and she barely acknowledged any of the greetings. Sometimes Joe wondered howinhell she ever got selected as a Field Agent in the first place, with nonexistent social skills. Not for the first time he felt sorry for Andy, a perfectly affable and happy go lucky kinda guy, who was stuck with Miss Sour Puss.

Andy , however, seemed to be fine with it, gently teasing her the same way he treated everyone else that wasn't a suspect. But right now he was all business. The next several hours were spent with Carl laying out everything he knew, or suspected, his brother of being responsible for since taking over. Joe wasn't sure if he should be flattered or pissed that from all appearances, Junior had set the entire Vincente Organization to the single task of finding him so that he could be tortured to death at the hands of Mazzola. The FBI was apparently tickled pink at this development as it meant they could chip away from the inside without too much fear of discovery.

There may have been a few breaks to eat, make more coffee and maybe hit the bathroom, but no one could say for sure when or if they had participated in any such activity. Sure there were coffee cups all over the place, and random plates with scraps but details were vague at best. At the end of the day, everyone was tired, frustrated and getting on each others' nerves. No real plan had emerged other than 'Hide Joe'. Naturally, Joe didn't like the plan.

"I am not going to spend the foreseeable future locked in a gilded cage, dammit!" he suddenly cried out, voice thick with frustration. Halloran, who had been attempting to clear away the dirty plates, jumped a little at the vehemence in his tone and dropped them with a clatter. Frank swooped in and helped pick everything up, while Fenton tried to calm his youngest son down.

"Son, you know this is only temporary." Fenton started, only to be cut off angrily.

"That's bullshit and you know it." Joe spat out. "We've been going around in circles all day." He stood and began pacing the crowded room. "All we have managed to figure out is the entire Vincente Organization is out for my blood but nobody seems to have a friggin' clue how they intend on bleeding me dry!" He stopped, spun around angrily and headed back the way he came. "Oh, yeah and the FBI seems perfectly content letting that happen while they exploit the whole damn thing to their advantage!"

"You know I would never let that happen, Joe!" Andy protested.

His energy spent, Joe deflated and he slumped back down into the chair. "I know, Andy." he sighed resignedly. "But your Bosses might have something different to say about it."

"It's late, everyone is tired and we are getting nowhere." Fenton finally said. "Why don't we call it a night?" he continued. More out of a sense of nothing else to do, everyone agreed. The group broke up into smaller teams; Andy, Pat and Carl stuck together. Fenton went to find his wife, while Frank followed Greg and his partner Paul out mumbling something about calling Gloria. So that left Joe and his wife, him sulking and her gnawing nervously on her nails. After a few moments of Joe lost in his own world, he suddenly seemed to remember her presence and visibly made an effort to erase the scowl on his face.

"C'mere," he smiled gently at her and held out his arms. "Sorry I dragged you into all this crap" he whispered into her hair as she settled into his lap and buried her face in his neck. "I thought I was past the 'damsel in distress' stage of my life" he continued with black humor. "And I sure as hell didn't wanna start off our life together as husband and wife in protective custody." His hands slipped under her shirt suggestively. "Far too difficult to get you alone and nekkid."

Halloran giggled, the sound muffled by her position. "Is that all you ever think about?"

"Yes. Well, that and food." he teased.

"Uh huh. I still say no to the mini fridge in the bedroom." she responded with a little laugh of her own. They sat together a few more minutes, until they were interrupted by Frank.

"Hey, am I interrupting anything?" he asked with a little smirk. He got a dirty look in response, from both of them. The grin got a little wider as he continued. "Gloria says 'hi' and not to worry about the house, she's bringing the mail in and generally keeping things looking lived in. Also, that she will take payment in the form of dinner when this is over. Oh, and Phil is sending over a secure laptop so that you can go back to work, Hall." Frank finished.

Halloran looked pleased and relieved at that announcement. "Good. I am sure he wants to spend some time at home with his daughter." she said. "And I have a lot of work that needs catching up on." she continued.

"At least one of us will be productive" Joe groused, his momentary good humor lost.

"Well you can always help me compile the spreadsheets, dear." Halloran retorted tartly.

Joe shuddered dramatically. "No, thank you. I'd rather carry on a conversation with Pat."

Frank and Halloran both chuckled at that as they all traipsed out into the living room. Everyone seemed to be forcing themselves to relax. There was a very intense GTA5 game going on between Greg and Andy, and poker with Fenton, Laura, Paul and Pat where the largest pile of chips was in front of Laura and the smallest in front of Fenton. Carl sat awkwardly in a chair facing a chess board that was missing most of the white pieces. Frank took his place facing Carl, took a moment to look at the board and then sighed , tipping his white King in defeat. "I have never been beat so soundly in my life." he chuckled with a grudging respect. " I am used to doing the beating." he jerked a thumb in Joe's direction. "He sucks."

"Chess is way too cerebral for me. I prefer something that works up a sweat. Like football." Joe scoffed. Halloran punched him on the arm before indicating to Frank she wanted his seat.

"I'll give it a shot." she said pleasantly, trying to put the nervous young man at ease. "I've been playing since I was a little girl. My grandfather taught me." she smiled softly and began setting up the white pieces on their proper squares. Soon the two were leaning over the board, each so intent they ignored the brothers.

Joe got tired of watching even his beautiful wife after ten minutes and nudged his brother. "Wanna get a beer?" he whispered. At Frank's nod, he leaned over and kissed the top of Halloran's head, which she absentmindedly acknowledged with a brush of her hand across his cheek before taking that hand to move a knight into attack position. Carl never even looked. up. Shaking his head in mock disgust, Joe weaved his way around the living room and headed to the kitchen. Reaching onto the fridge, he pulled out two bottles and deftly popped their tops before handing one to his brother.

"Be honest, Bro." he said bluntly after taking a deep pull of the malty goodness. "How long am I under House Arrest? In, I might point out, not even my own house!" His frustration evident, Joe waved the bottle under Frank's nose before finishing it off in another long swallow and grabbing another immediately.

**A/n:** _ do not expect anything next week though. I am going to use that time to hopefully finish the story. I have a goal.. to finish this one and the next before Spring as it looks like we are moving in May or June.. to Texas. But before my life turns completely upside down I want to wrap up this installment of the Bond One's adventures. May Santa be extra good to all of you, especially the ones who have been extra naughty! _


	4. Chapter 4

**A/n: **_I took a break for the new year, and it did no good whatsoever. I am not only not caught up, the next chapter is at a complete standstill. however being only marginally mean and rotten, I am posting this chapter anyway. PS: I tried loading this yesterday and failed miserably. apparently the site was FUBAR. _

**Chapter Four**

Frank's throat constricted. He was well aware of the fact that Joe had not been told the entire story, and some of the things that Carl had spoken of, plus what their own investigation had turned up, made his stomach churn. He was torn between being completely honest with his brother, and wanting to spare him more worry. It didn't help that there really was no practical plan to handle the entire situation other than 'wait and see' and it also galled him the FBI seemed more interested in bringing down the organization than it did in protecting Joe. He sighed, and took a long swig of his own before speaking.

"Don't get crazy, Joe. This is serious."

"I _**know**_ that, idiot." Joe spat. "What I _don't_ know is what kind of brilliant plan is in the works to nip this in the bud so that we can get on with our life." he slammed the beer bottle down on the counter sharply, but then drew a long shaky breath and slumped into a chair. "Trust me, I am not going to insist on being in the middle of the action, but neither can I sit here doing nothing or continue to stay in the dark!" he faced his brother with deep blue eyes that implored him in the usual way. "I just want to know what is going on so I can reassure Hall."

Frank set his own bottle down and leaned over Joe, resting his hands on his brother's broad shoulders. "You can tell her that we will move heaven and earth to keep you safe. Andy has already bucked his superiors on a few things. Dad has called in so many favors we will be paying them back long after he dies. Con has put the entire resources of the Department at our fingertips. Phil even sent one of the hackers from Infotech over to set up the secure coms and give us some really nifty new toys to play with." He stopped, silently pleading with his brother to accept what he'd been told and not push the issue any further.

He should have known better. Joe crossed his arms and glared daggers at the concerned face of his elder sibling. "You know, for a lot of words you sure as hell didn't say anything." Deliberately standing up, he forced Frank to stagger backwards. Advancing on his brother, Joe ended up staring eye to eye, a glint in his sapphire ones that Frank knew all too well. 'What, _**exactly**_ has Junior said or done about me, specifically? And on a related note, what, _**exactly**_ has Mazzola said or done in my name?" his posture and tone of voice let Frank know in no uncertain terms he was not getting out of this one with a vague non answer this time. He twisted his body just enough to slip out from Joe's belligerent cornering and bought himself another minute by pulling another pair of beers out of the fridge.

"Officially, nothing. No formal contract, no whispers on the wind. But he has people watching everything.. all our houses, the Agency, the Youth Center, even your gym. Lots of 'too casual to be innocent' questions about when you're back and stuff. The only one so far who seems untouched is Joanna, and we are milking that for all its' worth."

"How so?" Joe asked, slightly mollified now that Frank was being completely honest and forthcoming. He sat back down and accepted the new beer.

"Let's just say with her not being watched as far as we can tell she is working every angle we can think of, asking around, getting other Families to pass along anything they have heard, and so on."

"Other Families?" Joe raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Mario Senior was well respected among all the big Crime families, Joe. I guess there is some sort of mutual cooperation thing that goes on. One Family has the waste management monopoly, another one takes the prostitution, and so on. They handle disputes internally. Vincente was one of the ones who was always approached to mediate. When he was murdered, and by his own son at that, a lot of the Families took that as an insult." He sat down himself and absentmindedly nibbled on a cookie that he grabbed from a platter in the middle of the table. "But according to Carl, long gone are the days of the big Mafia Wars with shootouts taking up entire city blocks. And taking out the head of any family, regardless of the reason why, is generally considered to be a non negotiable cardinal sin. Apparently about ten years ago, when one such Boss was deemed to be a danger to the families for whatever reason, the ATF was given a nice anonymous tip that allowed them to arrest the guy on a bunch of charges, and he was convicted and sent away."

"He was senile." Both men jumped at the new voice as Carl walked in, followed by Halloran, who immediately sat in Joe's lap before stealing his beer and taking a swig. Carl grabbed his own beer out of the fridge and silently asked if he could join them. Frank waved a hand at an empty chair. "Vito Giordano. Came over from the Old country when he was like 4 and worked his way up. One of my Dad's best friends. But he got old and started losing his mind. Dementia, or Alzheimer's, one of those. And nobody noticed it because most of his captains kept it hush hush and handled things themselves." he shrugged before continuing. "One day he started giving all these really dangerous orders, and then contradicting them the next day. When he ordered the removal of one of his most loyal lieutenants, everybody realized they had to remove him from power somehow." his eyes took on a far away look as he reminisced. "The heads of like 7 or 8 Families all came to the house to meet. They all agreed that Uncle Vito had to go but first they had to decide on his successor, Aunt Maria's welfare and a bunch of other little stuff that I didn't care about then, nor would I have been privy to anyway." he shrugged semi apologetically. "End result was, a couple of the Captains agreed to take the fall along with Uncle Vito to keep an eye on him on the inside, a new Head was named and the ATF got a gift wrapped air tight case against him for a few racketeering charges and the like."

"I remember that trial." Halloran spoke up. "His team of lawyers tried to argue he was mentally incompetent to stand trial."

"The Prosecution argued that all the crimes took place when he wasn't, and they had enough witnesses to not need his testimony at all, so the Judge threw that request out." Frank mused. "he ended up in a secure Mental health facility. The Captains that rolled on him were either given suspended sentences or very light ones in exchange for testimony."

Carl nodded. "A bloodbath was averted, the Giordano cartel got a new, stable head that was capable of keeping the peace and the prosecution got a check in the 'win' column." he reached for a cookie of his own. "Everybody walked away happy, or at least not miserable." Joe swore he saw a tear in Carl's eye before he continued. "When my brother killed Papa, he committed the second worse kind of treason you can to the Families. You don't murder blood, not unless the head of your family orders it..and even then you need a damn good reason to do so."

"Second worst?" Joe asked in surprise.

"You don't betray the Family. That's Number One." Carl said. "You don't roll over, you don't skim, you don't tell anybody else, not even your girlfriend. Do that, and you are taken care of no matter what." Joe nodded and Frank looked thoughtful. "Anyway," Carl continued, "All the other Heads are furious at what Junior did and are looking at removing him. Uncle Vito at least had a real excuse for going off the deep end, he was senile. My brother is just a sadistic, evil bastard." the last was spoken with bitterness and an undercurrent of sadness. "Ordinarily they would take care of it amongst themselves. But I bet if you approached a few Families, you'd find a receptive ear."

"Anyone in particular?" Frank asked with interest. Carl considered for a moment. Finally he nodded and grimaced a little as he spoke.

"There's no love lost between my family and the Greco's." he began. "Huge feud between my great grandfather and them, going back to the Old country. Alex Greco would be only too happy to see the Vincente line fail. And if he got to take over the territories after, so much the better." Surprisingly, there was no bitterness, just an air of finality in his tone. "And you might approach a couple of Papa's lieutenants and captains as well. Some of them want out. They were more than loyal to Papa and never had any respect for Junior."

"Why don't they just quit? Retire?" Joe asked, puzzled. Carl shook his head.

"You don't. Once you are made you are in for life. If you become physically incapable of doing the job you had, you get moved someplace else. One of our gardeners right now used to be Papa's main enforcer. Mama's current driver used to be one of the collectors 'til he got shot and messed his knee up really bad."

"Collectors?" Halloran asked as she daintily nibbled on her own cookie, still comfortably ensconced in Joe's lap.

"Umm, collection agents. Protection money and kickbacks from 'clients'." Carl used air quotes. "Pay a percentage of your income and you get left alone plus extra business sent your way. Family run businesses usually. Also get tapped to provide goods and services no questions asked." he looked vaguely embarrassed about that. Carl knew full well he had taken advantage in the past despite not actually being involved with the family Biz.

"Any names I should be passing along to our outside contact?" Frank asked, referring to Joanna. Carl was not aware of her and Frank intended it to stay that way, just in case. Carl gave hm 3 or 4 names that might be willing to listen, and Frank got up to make a few phone calls in private.

That left Joe and Carl alone in the room, save for Hall. Carl was definitely uncomfortable and shifted nervously in his chair. "So, who won?" Joe asked casually.

"We split two games. Tie breaker is tomorrow sometime." Halloran replied with a smile.

"That's my girl." Joe pulled her face down for a quick smootch. It was ruined, however, by the jaw-breaking yawn that consumed him just as he puckered his lips. Halloran giggled and stood up.

"Is that a hint, Dear?!" she asked pertly. He slugged her arm in mock protest but the second yawn had him smiling sheepishly and agreeing it was bedtime. He waved goodnight to Carl before leaving the kitchen and heading upstairs. Along the way he cocked a questioning eyebrow at his brother, who was just hanging up. He got a nod in return, so Joe nodded back and placed a hand along the small of Halloran's back as he ushered her upstairs.

**A/n:** _I realize that this seems to be taking freaking forever to get to the good parts. and I swear as soon as I do manage to finish up Ch. 5 it will pick up the pace. Promise!_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/n: **_Finally...for some reason this chapter kicked my butt. so much so that i haven't even begun the next one. but I wills till ry my dangdest to update in a week. last of the snail's pace chapters though. after this it's action packed! (yes that means the Joe Whumping is nigh!) _

**Chapter Five**

Joe had his first real nightmare in many months that night. It was a strange mish mash of reliving the time he had been a captive of the Mazollas and visions of his wife in their clutches too. One minute he saw himself, naked and being beaten to a pulp and in the next instant his dark haired wife was the victim. The faces of his tormentors were blurred but he knew who they were. Mario Junior and Aldo Mazolla. Somehow he managed to wake himself up without screaming or disturbing the peacefully slumbering figure curled up next to him. Shivering in more than just the early morning chill, he slipped out from under the covers and padded silently into the bathroom. 4 am. A bit early, especially for him, but he turned the shower on anyway, letting it get close to scalding before stepping in and wincing a little at the hot water. He stood there, letting the water pressure pound into his back and imagining each scar was on fire as the droplets flowed down.

He was in there so long that the hot water had long ago run out and he never even noticed. Nor did he notice when Halloran slipped into the bathroom and quickly turned off the stream of now frigid water and wrapped a large fluffy towel around his shoulders. She never spoke at all, just held him close. No words would have done any good and she knew that. Joe fell in love with her even more as soon as he realized she knew exactly what he needed at that moment. Everyone else, he had this compulsive need to present his public face..the cocky, arrogant and devil may care attitude. Especially his father and brother. For some reason, though, Joe knew he could be completely vulnerable in her presence. Intellectually, he also knew that neither his father nor brother would think any less of him if he were to admit to any failings or insecurities. He had never been able to explain why he felt that way, not even with help from Dr Suitland.

They stayed close even after Halloran maneuvered him out of the bathroom. There was no conversation, not even little things like asking if he wanted to go down for breakfast. They just cuddled on the bed, Joe wearing just the towel and Halloran in her yoga clothes. In fact they dozed off again and were awoken by a soft knock on the door.

"Joe, Honey, breakfast is getting cold." Laura's quiet voice seeped through their sleep addled brains.

Joe sat up and blearily looked around. If Hall didn't know better, she would have said he had been crying; his eyes were red rimmed and tired looking. "We'll be down in a bit, Laura" she said loudly enough to be heard through the door. There was a barely audible harrumph before footsteps faded away. Halloran sighed. The last thing she wanted or needed was more stress in the form of a disagreement with her mother in law, especially since they were stuck together and couldn't get some space to cool off. She got up and divested herself of the yoga clothes, asking Joe if he wanted to join her in the shower. Joe shook his head but did follow her into the bathroom.

As she got the water temp and pressure to her liking, Joe shaved. He was still standing in front of the mirror when she finished and stepped out wrapping herself in her own towel. He smiled absently at her but did not engage her in conversation despite several attempts. Hall finally decided that he was going to be sociable when he was ready and not a second before, so she kissed his cheek and went downstairs. Everyone else was up and by the looks of things, were working on seconds. She accepted the seat Fenton was just vacating with a smile of thanks and nodded her approval at the large mug of coffee set before her by Andy.

"Where's my wayward sibling? Trying to sneak another forty winks?" Frank asked with a sly smile. Halloran looked at him with sad, somber eyes and his smile faded away. "What?" he asked worriedly.

"He needs you." Halloran replied simply. Frank frowned, but excused himself and went upstairs. Finding the door to the bedroom closed, he knocked, but when there was no acknowledgement, he twisted the knob and entered anyway. Joe was standing, lost in thought, staring out the window. Frank didn't say anything, but did walk up to stand next to his brother. They stood there in silence for several minutes before Frank couldn't stand it any more.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently. Joe gave him a sideways look that spoke volumes. "Okay, besides the obvious." Frank amended with a slight laugh. Joe sighed and turned to his brother. The look in his eyes gave Frank the chills. "NO. Absolutely NOT." he exclaimed in alarm. "There is no way in hell I am going to let you do something stupid."

"Like what?" Joe asked with a hint of a smile.

"Like go after them." Frank spat.

"Who, me?!" Joe was all innocence, but his eyes held that familiar sparkle of mischievousness. "I tried it your way. The hiding. It doesn't work for me."

"It's been two freaking days, Joe!" Frank cried in exasperation. "At least give it a chance."

"We can't spend the next however long with our lives on hold. Not you, not me, not Dad, not the FBI. We all have better things to do. Since when did we cower like little kids afraid of monsters under the bed?" He tried to be reasonable.

"Did you not just say the other day that you were NOT going to insist on being in the thick of it?!"

"I thought about it. Then I changed my mind." There was no humor, sarcasm or any of his usual irreverence in his voice. Joe took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and look straight into his brother's eyes. "Look, we both know that sitting around waiting is not going to do any good. I am already going stir crazy, and we can't stay in Limbo forever. Yes, I admit I am scared shitless over the whole thing. But I'll be damned if I am going to hide forever!" he spat vehemently

"Dad will never go for it, and gawd only knows what Mom will say.. or Hall."

"I'm a big boy now and don't need Mommie and Daddy's permission. And my wife will back me up." Joe retorted. "However I am not completely insane." he scowled when his brother raised a sardonic eyebrow in response. "I'm going to insist on every possible doodad, gadget and geeky thing you can come up with to back me up." Frank looked barely mollified, and reluctantly nodded his assent. Joe grinned then, more his old self and immediately began launching into his plan.

Despite himself, Frank slowly found himself agreeing as Joe laid out his idea. He pulled up a chair and started taking notes on the small notepad he carried with him everywhere. The two of them got so caught up that they completely lost track of time and never heard the knocking on the door until it was opened up and laughter reached their ears. Andy Reeves stood there grinning like a mad man, while behind him Fenton slowly shook his head with a rueful grin. "Hey! No fair starting without me!" Andy laughed as he stepped inside the room.

In a matter of moments the bedroom was stuffed with people, laptops and scattered notes. No one thought to move the impromptu meeting to a more appropriate location. Laura and Halloran each stopped by separately but received no acknowledgement of their presence. Halloran just smiled a little sadly and cornered Carl for their tie breaker chess match. The game kept her mind off what she knew was going on upstairs. Laura tried a few times to enlist her daughter in law's aid in breaking up the strategy session, but was rebuffed each time. Lunch time came and went, with only a few of the house bound guests eating. Halloran and Carl called it quits after a grand total of 6 games and admitted it was a tie. She eventually wandered into the kitchen and saw Laura sitting a little forlornly at the table nursing a cold cup of tea. Halloran felt a little guilty, seeing her like that. She poured herself her own tea and warmed Laura's. She wanted to mend fences, but wasn't sure how without making it clear she was not going to do things the way her Mother in law wanted or insulting the woman she had grown very fond of.

"Have you given any thought to dinner?" she asked casually. Laura looked up and shook her head. "What about calzones?" She continued. "Everyone can stuff them their own way." Laura agreed and soon they were prepping bowls of assorted ingredients: pepperoni, ground beef, peppers, shredded cheeses, even spinach and artichoke hearts. The safe house had a bread machine(_who thinks of these things?!_) and they prepped a couple of batches of pizza dough. Any one not directly involved in whatever evil plot Joe had concocted wound up in the kitchen too.

Before too long, even the conspirators were drawn into the kitchen by the intoxicating aroma of freshly baking bread. Joe came in, looking a lot less stressed and a lot more relaxed. Halloran saw the change in him immediately, surprised at noting the lack of suppressed excitement that usually permeated his being when he was in the middle of a case. But he was no longer worried and restless. So that means a plan had been drawn up and he was happy with it. She only hoped she'd be okay with it as well. She firmly shoved those thoughts into the back of her mind and concentrated on feeding the brood. No one made any mention of the dark cloud hanging overhead and even Carl began to relax a little and loosen up.

Dinner was remarkably light hearted. A lot of good natured teasing all around and even Laura lost her look of disapproval. The atmosphere had definitely altered. Gone was the sense of uncertainty. In it's place was less a sense of excitement than a sense of purpose. After dinner everyone ended up in the spacious living room. Someone unearthed a few board games and before long a spirited game of Trivial Pursuit was in full swing. It was very late before they broke up and went to their respective rooms. Joe and Halloran walked upstairs together, Joe's hand resting lightly on her back and occasionally 'slipping' a little lower as she ascended. Looking over her shoulder, she raised an eyebrow and looked down her nose in mock severity. He just grinned, the first real, truly carefree one she had seen since they had returned from their cruise. She was a little relieved. If he had been unsure or worried about her reaction to the 'plan' he would have been nervous, or overly jovial. Instead, she saw him at his usual casual confident self.

Once they got into the room, he pulled out their suitcases and began packing, all the while telling her what the plan was and answering every question she had honestly. By the end, she was concerned but no longer ill at ease with uncertainty. Sleep came easily to both of them and nightmares were happily absent. They woke early and indulged in some quality time before showering and heading downstairs, Joe dragging the luggage behind him. The kitchen was packed but the only option for breakfast was several dozen donuts and an equal number of bagels. Tubs of cream cheese and slices of lox finished off the assortment. Halloran spotted Phil at the end of the table and rushed over to give him a huge hug and demand pictures of his daughter before doing a double take. "What are you doing here?!"

"Oh nothing much, just delivering breakfast and a few odds and ends that your husband special ordered." he replied with a sly smile. She turned to Joe, who by now was grinning that 'who, me?" grin he was so famous for. Her glare only made him grin wider. She absconded with Phil's smart phone and grabbed a cup of coffee and a pair of donuts before corralling Laura to view the pictures with her in a corner.

Meanwhile, Joe and the others ate and discussed in low tones the next step. As soon as everyone's appetite had been sated, Phil pulled out his lap top case and began pulling various items out of it and laying them on the table. Even Laura and Halloran abandoned their baby worship and came over, curious at the array of gadgets displayed. Laura picked up the syringe that appeared and held it curiously. "Someone need a vaccination?" she asked jokingly. Phil grinned and took it out of her hand.

"Roll up yer sleeve, Joe." he said, popping off the sterile protective cap. He quickly swabbed the inside of Joe's elbow and jabbed the needle into the crook, slowly depressing the plunger. "You are the lucky recipient of Phil Cohen's Handy Dandy Joe Locator." Amidst the general laughter, a few brows furrowed so Phil explained. "It's a GPS tracker. Military grade, slightly altered to not alert the NSA to his whereabouts. It's also, unfortunately, not the most stable thing so its only going to transmit for about 6 weeks. So no, Frank, you won't be able to find him forever. Sorry."

"Hey, I gave that up when he got married. He's Hall's responsibility now!" Frank protested. More laughter followed that announcement and Halloran got a thoughtful look on her face as she peered intently at the barely noticeable bulge in the crook of her husband's arm.

"That's not ours?" she half asked, half commented.

"Nope, but it was something I was working on before I left Chicago. Just don't have the time or money to expand on the potential right now." Phil said. "This is a prototype."

"If it works, we'll discuss going into the hardware business." was her only comment and Phil looked surprised and pleased by the words. The rest of the morning was spent with Phil explaining the use and care of the other toys he brought, as well as programming everyone's who needed it smart phones with the software used to follow Joe's location 24/7. There was an assortment of tracking devices, ear pieces, radios and panic buttons that Phil patiently explained one at a time. It was early afternoon when everyone broke for their respective vehicles and began heading for home and work.

Joe cornered Phil as he was packing his briefcase up. "Got a sec?" he asked in a low tone.

"Sure. What's up?" Phil replied equally quietly. Joe looked around until he found his wife chatting with his parents. Nodding once he turned back to his brother's best friend.

"What's the range on this thing?" he asked, lifting his arm slightly.

"About fifty miles. So don't get kidnapped across state lines." Phil replied with black humor. "oh, one more thing." he indicated he wanted Joe to open his arm fully. Pressing lightly at the injection site, he asked. "Feel it?" at Joe's nod he continued. "if you end up in trouble, press down hard until you feel a little click. It'll transmit a mayday."

"You think of everything, don't you?" Joe asked in admiration.

"Growing up with you two did have some..interesting.. affects on me, yes." he replied with a glint in his eye. "It hasn't been field tested. So for all I know it won't work at all." Phil cautioned.

"I trust you. Did you take care of that other thing?" he asked. At Phil's nod he relaxed the teeniest little bit. "Thanks, Man. I really owe you."

"And I intend on collecting. In spades. 6 weeks Paternity leave. With pay. And a minimum of 4 nights babysitting at our discretion." Phil warned with a smile.

"Deal!" Joe responded with a clasp of hands. "See you later?"

"Count on it. Pam is itching to get out of the house. Being able to hand off the baby to somebody else for a while is just a bonus. Need us to bring anything?"

"Beer is always appreciated. Frank's got the meat covered and if I know my mother she has the sides taken care of. And I _do_ know my wife and she will insist on dessert herself. Be there by 5!" With another quick handshake, Joe made his way over to his wife, standing a little impatiently by their luggage. "Ready to get outta here, Babe?" he asked her gently.

Nodding a little uncertainly, she bent down and picked up her carry on, letting Joe grab the garment bag and larger suitcase. With a final round of goodbyes, everyone went their separate ways.

**A/n: **_Seriously, did anyone REALLY think Joe would be content to just sit around and do nothing? However he has grown up and has accepted the new responsibility of marriage so he has tempered his impulsiveness and need to be constantly in the thick of it with some mature , well thought out back up plans in place. _


	6. Chapter 6

**A/n: **_ a little late, sorry._

**Chapter Six**

Joe Hardy had assumed he was well experienced about pain. He'd been shot, beat up, whipped with a cat o'nine tails. He'd been concussed. Broken bones, sprained ankles, even a dislocated shoulder after a particularly brutal Defensive Nose Guard got a little too excited about his job during the State Championship game.

He was wrong. All of that seemed like a scraped knee in comparison to what he was experiencing now. He was downright nostalgic over the _picana_. The bitch of it was, he honestly didn't remember if he had time to activate the MayDay on his internal GPS and in his present predicament there was no way in hell he could even attempt to make sure or activate it anyway. He could barely remember his name. Keeping positive thoughts? No way in hell. Not even the memory of his wedding and honeymoon could cheer him up at the moment. He did, however, focus all his energies on remembering every detail, mole and wrinkle on his wife's face, all the way down to that little stray hair on her eyebrow that never seemed to stay put. It was the only way he had any hope of staying sane long enough to be rescued.

Completely ignoring his captors only enraged them more. They redoubled their efforts, with each man alternating their chosen form of punishment with not even a moment's rest. As soon as Aldo got tired, Junior would begin again. This went on for hours, and Joe didn't even have the luxury of falling unconscious. Every time he tried to, somebody would jab him with a needle full of pure adrenaline. He was pretty sure his heart would explode any minute now. His grip on reality was fading fast. How many hours had it been? Or was that days? He truly had no idea. A distant roaring tickled the edge of his awareness and he debated whether or not to try and pay attention. He decided it was too much effort and let his consciousness fade away.

**A/n: **_no you didn't miss anything. yes, this is very short. No this is not a mistake. Yes there will be explanations a plenty. No you will not get spoilers before the next chapter is posted. yes everything is deliberately vague and non specific. _ N_o it has nothing to do with writier's block or any other lame excuse. yes I really do have a plan. no I am not BSing you. _


	7. Chapter 7

**A/n: **_ feeling generous. another chapter a little early and extra long to make up for the last one. _

**Chapter Seven**

It was happening again. There was something over his mouth and nose and he panicked. As before he tried to sit up and this time, he noted with dim surprise in the back of his mind that he was able to do so. Equally shocking was the fact that when he tried to pull the offending thing off, his arm actually moved. He tore madly at the thing and succeeded in ripping it away. This resulted in a number of screeching alarms that only confused and frightened him even more. He was still struggling to get up, or away or just out that he took along minute to realize that he was being gently restrained.

"Woah, easy there, Tiger!" came a dim voice that sounded far away. "You _would_ pick the one five minute interval over the past 2 days when no one was in the room to wake up." the voice continued with a soft laugh. While he thought he might recognize the voice and considered it non threatening, he continued to struggle. "Joe!" the voice spoke again, sharper but still concerned. "It's okay!" the voice was definitely feminine, and familiar to him. "Just relax, Joe. Take slow , deep breaths."

He obeyed and found he was not choking after all. But the panic came back as soon as he realized that his mouth and nose were being covered again. He struggled violently to get away. "Okay, Okay, I get it. No mask. But Honey, you still need the oxygen. Look at me, Joe." the voice took on a professional but still comforting tone. The voice repeated the instructions several times until Joe had calmed down enough to focus.

"Mandy?" he asked tremulously. At the Nurse Keller's nod and smile he slumped back onto the hospital bed in relief and fatigue. "Sorry." he mumbled but still refused to let her put the full face mask back on. She had to grab a nasal cannula instead. Joe flinched as it was positioned but otherwise let her put it on. "Where's my family?" he asked like a little lost boy.

"Gloria came up here and forcibly dragged your brother and your wife down to the cafeteria about half an hour ago. I'll have them paged if you like." at his nod Amanda straightened up and admonished him to stay put and not remove or try to remove a single thing. "I'll be right back."

Once she was gone, Joe willed himself to focus. He wasn't thrilled about the cannula, but at least he was no longer panicking. He took some more deep breaths, coughing a little and wincing at the ache around his ribcage. He took stock, mentally and physically. (_huh. Cast is off. When did that happen?_) he wondered as he stared at the previously broken wrist with it's pasty white skin that contrasted sharply with his fading tan. He flexed it a few times, noting it's weakness and resolving to ask somebody for an exercise ball or something to squeeze. He was still taking stock when the door burst open, Halloran rushing in with Frank right on her heels.

No words were spoken, although Joe sucked in air through his teeth in pain at Hall's rather fierce embrace. He returned her hug a lot less strongly but took longer to let go than she did. Eventually though it became too uncomfortable and he released his grip. He looked over his wife's head and said "Hey" rather weakly to his brother.

"Hey, yourself." Frank responded quietly and solemnly.

"Close call?"

"You could say that, yeah."

"But the tracker thingy worked?"

"Mostly. It died almost immediately after you activated the Mayday."

"Ahh. Wasn't sure I had gotten the chance to do that."

"Phil wants to get a hold of it and do some tests." Frank was visibly struggling to stay neutral in voice and mannerism, to keep pace with his brother's attitude. "He isn't sure if activating it caused it to stop transmitting or what."

Joe looked down at the crook of his elbow. "He can have it. But I'd prefer somebody slightly more qualified to open me up and dig it out." Frank snorted at the comment.

"I should go call Mom and Dad. And the rest of the guys. And Reeves made me promise to call him immediately too." Joe waved him away.

"Go. Tell them I am fine and thanks for everything and that they can stop by in a day or two."

"Even Mom?!" Frank asked in disbelief.

"Especially my mother. I got all the hovering I need right here." Joe cast his eyes downward at his wife, still clinging to his chest. "Not ready to give a statement, let alone deal with excess estrogen." at that comment, Halloran raised her head and blew a raspberry at him. Frank's eyebrows knitted together in slight worry at the comment but nodded and let it pass.

"Okay. I'll make the calls. Be back in a bit." He said before exiting the room.

Joe turned attention to his wife. "You okay?" he asked gently. She looked at him in astonishment.

"_You're_ asking _me _if _I_ am okay?!" she gasped incredulously. "I'm not the one in the hospital bed, StudMuffin!"

"I know, but you were the one left to worry and stuff." he replied softly, almost as if he was ashamed of the fact.

"I knew what I was getting into, Joe. Don't ever apologize for being you. Besides it wasn't as bad as it could have been. We knew where you were the whole time, even after it stopped transmitting. Andy had somebody on the inside who I guess was right there the whole time."

"Woulda been nice if they did something about it a little sooner!" Joe groused.

Halloran shrugged, not disagreeing. "But you are here now and that's what is important." she soothed, her voice a little choked. Although she was not present during what she had gathered was a very dramatic, guns a blazin' shootout, she was there at the hospital when her husband was brought in with 2 paramedics feverishly trying to restart his heart even as they unloaded from the ambulance. Seeing his face obscured by the manual breathing bag while at the same time being straddled on the gurney by a man pounding away at her husband's chest had caused Halloran to nearly swoon with fear. Only the presence of her mother in law kept her from losing it completely.

The next two days she had spent glued to Joe's side, reluctantly leaving only when forced to. She and Frank had traded off sleeping in the cot in the on call room that Nurse Keller had let them use. When Frank or Hall weren't in the room, Joe had a succession of well wishers and interrogators. Reeves was getting frustrated with Joe's seeming lack of information but was reluctant to push too hard. Finally, he had been released with strict instructions on how to manage his lingering injury and only after his home had been retrofitted with a ramp.

The biggest problem had been the bedroom. There was no realistic way to configure any downstairs room into a long term bedroom as his recovery from the injuries Adlo Mazzola inflicted were going to take almost a year to fully heal. Eventually that was solved by the installation of a chair lift along the stair case. It took Halloran finally getting angry at his repeated apologies about ruining her home before he shut up about it. "If my grandfather had not gone into the nursing home he would have had one installed himself so shut the hell up about it and deal. I am not spending the first year of our marriage sleeping in separate rooms!" sheepishly he finally acquiesced but not before broaching the subject( _NOT with his wife_)about possibly moving into a more suitable place, like a one story home or apartment that was handicapped accessible. His brother had looked at him like he had grown a second head.

"Don't be an idiot. You'll recover faster in familiar surroundings. And besides, the FBI is paying for everything involved in your rehab so take it and run. Other than the bedroom being upstairs the house is fine. And you are getting the van so it's not like you will be stuck inside 24/7. In fact, you get a month off then I expect you back in the office." Frank's eye took on a maliciously evil glint as he continued. "On second thought, forget that. Two weeks. You are woefully behind in your reports and we don't pay Martha enough to cover your work on top of hers. You can start typing your own up. And then I have a few projects lined up that you can get started on. After I uninstall Spider Solitaire from your computer." he easily ducked the throw pillow that had been tossed at him with ferocious intent before laughingly taking off.

A couple of days after Joe's release from the hospital, he was grumpily flipping through channels bored out of his skull when the doorbell rang. He quickly maneuvered his way over to the door and got it open. "Bruce! Man am I glad to see you. Actually, anybody. There is nothing to do!" he exclaimed in delight as he backed up to allow his friend to enter.

"Where's Hall?" Bruce asked as he followed Joe into the living room and sat down.

"Working crazy hours. Between the honeymoon and her promise to Phil about paternity leave, she's got a lot on her plate." Joe shrugged. " I don't mind too much. Makes it feel almost normal. Except for the being basically stuck. Van doesn't come 'til next week then I have to be certified to operate the damn thing." he snorted in disgust. "I've been driving since I was 14!"

"Uh huh. And how many years have you been driving a hand controlled vehicle with a blind spot the size of Texas?" Bruce asked wryly.

"How tough can it be?" Joe asked.

"You'd be surprised. Totally different skill set Buddy." Joe snorted in derision then offered Bruce a beer and some chip n dip. They spent a good hour just chatting, with Bruce deliberately not making any further references to the wheelchair shaped elephant in the room or broaching the subject of how his friend came to be using one again. But while they talked, Bruce observed. A lot. Small things, like Joe's stubble and less than pristine condition. Oh, his clothes were clean, and he was reasonably presentable, but there were small indications that something wasn't quite right. His hair was in need of a good wash, and definite traces of grime elsewhere. (_Oh, gawd._)

"Joe?" he finally changed the subject from the topic of the upcoming hockey season to more weighty matters. "Are you getting help?"

"Help with what?" he asked.

"Your new phobia." Bruce said gently.

"What?" Joe scoffed, clearly trying to deflect the conversation elsewhere.

"Buddy, I spent 6 months as the resident Doc of an internment camp. I recognize the signs. You don't start getting help now and it will take years to get over." Bruce spoke evenly. "The more you deny or try to handle it on your own, the worse it gets. And you don't have the luxury of being able to work out logistics without help. Do you at least have a bathtub in the house?"

"Yeah." Joe sighed, rubbing a hand over his scruffy face. "But I can't get in or out without help, and Hall's way too much of a lightweight."

"You have a big strapping older brother, do you not?" Bruce raised an eyebrow in sardonic amusement. "Didya ever think about asking him?"

"He doesn't know, and I didn't want him to." Joe reluctantly admitted.

"Well that's just plain idiotic, dumbass." Bruce snorted. "Tell ya what. I noticed a drug store about 2 blocks from here. I am going to go and pick something up, and in the meantime you start filling that bathtub. Halfway. As hot as you can stand it. We'll get you cleaned up at least." He got up and let himself out, hoping that Joe would do as he had been instructed.

Twenty minutes later, he returned and didn't bother ringing the bell; he just walked right in. "Joe?!" he called out.

"Upstairs" was the reply. Bruce took the stairs two at a time and met Joe in the bathroom. He was sitting there apprehensively in just a pair of boxers, but the tub was half full of steaming water. He reflexively caught the small bag tossed to him. "What's this?" he asked warily.

"Dry shampoo. No water needed." was the reply. "Start with that, and when you are ready, you can work your way into ways of getting your head wet without it hitting your face." he swished a hand into the water, testing temperature. " Do you normally use an electric razor?" he continued the conversation as if they were discussing the weather.

"I have one but I prefer the old fashioned way most of the time."

"Well for now stick with just the electric one. Unless you plan on growing a beard but Pal, lemme tell ya, it's not a good look for you. Too damned pale to show, and it's growing all in all scraggly. You look ridiculous."

Joe actually laughed at the comment and most of his reservations faded away. He trusted Bruce and it was easier to let him help than admit his issues to his brother. Bruce easily lifted Joe into the tub before leaving him alone to wash up. "Just like a sponge bath. I know you have had those before." Joe nodded. "When you are finished, holler. I'll come get ya outta there."

Twenty minutes later the water had cooled to room temp and he was forced to admit he felt a thousand percent better. Bruce came the minute Joe called out and expertly and impassively lifted his friend out, helped him dry off then got him dressed. They returned downstairs and Joe made sandwiches.

Between bites of tuna salad, Joe started hesitantly asking Bruce questions. "Is this even normal?" he started off with.

"Oh hell yeah!" Bruce hastened to reassure his friend. "Triggers include rain, of course the shower and even the sound of roaring water."

"Well that explains my reluctance then.." Joe mused half to himself.

"Reluctance?" Bruce prodded.

"There's this place I like to go, to unwind and think. It's by the Bay. Lots of roaring waves. Tried going there last week and I about lost it." the admission cost him, but at the same time doing so felt like a great weight had been lifted. He continued. "How do I get over it?"

"You start with behavioral therapy, like what we just did. Small steps. You can work your way up to what passes for normal in your life. For instance, the bathtub is huge, big enough for you to eventually run the shower head but stand far enough away that it doesn't hit you."

"Dude, look at me! Won't be standing for a while!" Joe spoke lightly but still bitterly.

"Joe, I'd be lying if I said you'll get over this in weeks. It could very well take a year anyway. In the meantime don't beat yourself up over the fact that you can't take a shower without wigging out. Instead, remind yourself that you can't for totally unrelated reasons. By the time you can stand on your own two feet again, you may be ready to take a shower." Bruce continued. "Find a good counselor or therapist well versed in PTSD and related issues."

"Already have one. Was trying to convince myself to call."

"Then you are ahead of the game." Bruce smiled. "And for cryin' out loud, let your brother know. If for no other reason than you know he will kill you if you don't. That, and I can't be here every day to haul your sorry ass in and out of the tub."

Joe chuckled. "Fine, I concede that you have a point."

Bruce got up and was ready to leave. "Joe. There's a reason it was condemned as being barbaric. It messes up your mind big time. The emotional scarring is as bad, if not worse, as the ones on your feet or back. Remember that."

Joe nodded. "Do me a favor?" he asked.

"Of course."

"Would you explain it to Frank for me?" Joe closed his eyes. "I am not sure I can put it into words just yet."

"Of course." Bruce pulled out his cell phone and dialed. "Frank. I'm in town, just paid a visit to my favorite Snipe." Pause. "Your brother. Do you never pay attention when he tells his sea stories?! Anyway, I thought I might stop by and say Howdy to you while I am here." another pause as Frank replied. "Perfect. I'l meet you there. See ya in a few." he hung up with a click and put his jacket on.

"Thanks. Man. I owe you."

"Yes. You do. I'll collect on it someday. Give your gorgeous wife a kiss from me."

Joe raised an eyebrow. "Should I be worried that you are switching teams?"

"Are you kidding? Mitch would go on a rampage. Can't have that on my conscience. Besides, just because I am gay doesn't mean I can't appreciate the fairer sex objectively." Joe laughed as he escorted his friend to the door and waved good bye.

Fifteen minutes later, Bruce met Frank at the corner coffee shop. "Can't stay long, I have the overnight shift at the station. But Joe asked me to tell you something."

"Umm, okay. Why doesn't he just tell me himself?" Frank asked, clearly puzzled.

"Cuz he isn't ready to speak the words to himself, let alone out loud. He'll acknowledge it, but can't come right out and say it in so many words." Bruce took a deep breath. "Frank, Joe was waterboarded."

**A/n:** _eventually you will get the whole story of what happened, from Joe's Point of View. mostly in flashbacks when we meet out beloved Dr Suitland again. Admit it, y'all missed him. _


End file.
